


Fever With His Kisses

by admiralandrea



Series: Comfortween [3]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27433360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralandrea/pseuds/admiralandrea
Summary: Callen and Sam realise their feelings for each other and 'fess up.
Relationships: G Callen/Sam Hanna
Series: Comfortween [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995055
Kudos: 38





	Fever With His Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is set around S3E08 "Greed" and S3E09 ep "Betrayal" - where we find out about Sam's undercover trips to Sudan, which triggers the whole Tahir Khaled storyline. This is in the same AU as the previous two stories in this series, so there is no Michelle or kids for Sam.
> 
> Third Comfortween fic for prompt 3. It’s Not Just A River In Egypt - Comforting someone who’s denying that anything is wrong.

Sam was awoken by his partner’s restless movements and noises of distress. He carefully slid out of bed and then touched Callen’s foot. It was the only way he could safely wake him up without getting smacked, something they had learned the hard way the first time Callen had had a nightmare when they were sleeping together.

“G,” Sam called to him. “It’s alright, it’s just a dream, wake up.”

The distressed noises increased and then Callen flung himself upright with a yell. He looked around wild-eyed, while Sam waited for him to realize where he was and that it was safe.

“Sam,” he said breathlessly, shoulders shaking as he tried to bring himself under control.

Sam got back into bed and pulled him close, knowing his partner needed the close contact now for comfort. “I’ve got you G,” he said, rubbing Callen’s back.

Callen leant against him, breathing gradually slowing back to normal.

“You okay?” Sam finally asked.

“I’m fine,” came the expected response and Sam fought not to sigh. It was the same thing Callen had been saying for the past week, since the nightmares first started.

Sam had been back at work for a while, fit again after the stabbing on their last mission, which had landed him a prolonged stay in hospital, followed by an extended period of recovery and rehabilitation. They weren’t involved in anything particularly urgent at the moment, instead the team had been spending time on their long term covers for various ongoing cases and Sam kind of thought that was his partner’s problem. With nothing major to keep his brain occupied, Callen’s demons were coming out.

Unfortunately, Callen didn’t show the slightest inclination to discuss whatever was causing the nightmares and Sam was reluctant to push it. The change in their relationship from good friends and partners to something more intimate was still in the early stages because of Sam’s ongoing recovery and they were both feeling their way through it. Neither had been involved in a serious relationship with another guy and so they didn’t quite know how to behave with each other.

At least Callen was letting Sam offer comfort, seeming to find relief in the new closeness between them. And Sam was calling on all his SEAL training to be patient, because he knew Callen was worth it. He could barely admit it even in his own head, but Sam had a feeling he was falling in love with his partner.

*

The next few days, Callen spent more time at his own place, or at locations linked to his undercover roles. He knew that Sam was frustrated with him over the nightmares and his inability to talk about it. But his partner hadn’t said anything. On the one hand, Callen was relieved, because he hated to talk. On the other hand, he was disappointed, because he wanted Sam to push; wanted to feel like Sam cared, because nobody else ever had and he needed someone to give a damn about him and not just give up because Callen couldn’t open up about his feelings.

It was ridiculous and frustrating and Callen felt at an impasse. In his own head, it seemed like he needed to get past this issue and talk to Sam or just get over it already, in order for them to move forward in their relationship. And that bugged him all by itself as well, the idea that they even had a relationship. His own emotional turmoil was exhausting and Callen hated it. What he needed was a new case to allow him to shove all the personal stuff back in a box and forget about it.

Of course, he soon regretted thinking that. They’d had an inkling of a new case, but in the meantime, Hetty dragged the team into the gym and started teaching Kensi and Deeks how to dance together.

Her comments about him and Sam dancing together were her not-really-that-subtle way of letting him know that she was aware of the change to their relationship. He doubted that Sam realized that, but with as well as Callen knew Hetty, it was glaringly obvious to him that she’d figured things out.

Eric’s timely intervention with the news that they’d been cleared to go to Mexico was a huge relief and Callen meant it when he agreed with Sam’s assertion that they owed him big time for getting them out of Hetty’s crazy plan.

*

And then it all went to hell and Callen ended up in a mortuary in Sudan, wondering if he’s about to identify his partner’s body. It was much as he can do to hold it all together. As it was, the fact he hadn’t eaten in a couple of days was the only thing that stopped him losing his lunch all over the floor just from the smell of burned, decaying flesh.

When he realized it wasn't Sam, the relief was almost enough to send him to the floor and he swallowed hard, fighting back tears, as he called Hetty with the news.

The fact that it wasn’t Sam didn’t really make things any better; Callen still had to find his wayward partner and bring him home. And the man himself didn’t make that any easier. Seeing Sam with Jada was a whole new knife to the chest. The choking jealousy was unexpected and unpleasant.

The realization of his feelings was also something Callen could do without right then. He forced it all into a box at the back of his head again, to deal with some time when he’s not trying to extricate his partner from a warlord’s clutches – along with the warlord’s sister with whom his partner had apparently fallen in love.

*

When they got back to Coronado, Callen felt bad for his partner. The deceit was obviously killing Sam and he struggled to explain things to Jada, looking to Callen to complete the explanation. Jada’s reaction was predictable and Callen was grateful Kensi was there to step in and look after her. He had enough to do containing his own emotions, dealing with an upset woman on top of that would be too much.

Because Kensi was staying with Jada and the agents taking her into custody, Deeks took the keys to her car and Sam and Callen rode back to Los Angeles with him. The two hour drive could have been painful, but Sam sat up front and Deeks chatted away, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents of emotion between the partners, making the journey pass more easily. Callen even managed to doze part of the way, head leaning awkwardly against his window.

Deeks dropped him off first, down the block from his house. Callen took his time approaching, checking for strangers or anything out of place. There was nothing and no one to see that shouldn’t be there and he finally headed for his front door at an oblique angle, making sure he wasn’t visible to any of the neighbors as he arrived.

Once inside, he did a quick walk round the house to make sure it was still safe and secure as well. Again, he found nothing out of place, so he reached into his freezer for his ever-present bottle of vodka. He couldn’t let go enough to really get drunk, but he needed something to help him relax.

Callen wandered back to his bedroom with his glass of vodka, wanting a shower before he tried to rest. He swallowed a mouthful of drink as he unbuttoned his white shirt, then switched the glass to the other hand as he unfastened his pants and toed off his boots.

Moments later, he was in just his boxers and socks, kicking the clothes to one side. As he did so a noise caught his attention. He froze and listened hard. He heard another noise, it sounded like someone was in the house. Callen glanced around, assessing his options.

His bag with his gun and knife was still in the lounge, out of reach. He had weapons in the hidden section of wall behind him, but it would make too much noise if he opened it now. Callen looked down at the glass he held, which was still half-full of vodka. It would do in a pinch; he could throw the alcohol in the intruder’s face and hit them over the head with the glass. It should serve to distract the person enough for him to take them out. Hopefully his state of undress would also come in handy as a further distraction.

Callen took up a position behind the bedroom door, so that he would be out of sight when it opened. Moments later the door swung open and he tensed for action.

“G?” Sam’s voice came to him and Callen let out his breath in a whoosh as relief flooded him.

Callen stepped from behind the door. “Sam, what the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

Sam’s gaze roamed his body, taking in his lack of clothing and the half-full glass he held. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Callen snorted. “I live here,” he pointed out.

Sam sighed. “I wanted to check you were okay G.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Callen’s tone was sharp; he wasn’t in the mood for this.

Sam stepped closer. “Because you had to identify Michael’s body,” he said softly. “You probably suspected it could be mine.”

Callen grimaced and he took another swig of his vodka, turning away. He didn’t need to be reminded of that.

“G,” Sam’s voice was soft and a hand landed on his shoulder.

Callen fought not to shake him off, but also fought not to react, to not give in to the rush of emotions as he remembered looking down at the burned remains of Michael Saleh’s body. 

“I’m sorry G,” Sam told him. “I know this didn’t go how you wanted, but I couldn’t just leave Jada behind.”

A tremor went through Callen’s body as the mention of Khaled’s sister. “I don’t love her,” Sam added. “I meant what I said when you found me in Khartoum, I love you G.”

“God Sam,” Callen said, voice breaking with emotion and he turned into his partner’s arms. “I love you too,” he added in a whisper.

Sam held on to him, his head resting on the top of Callen’s. “I didn’t want to,” Callen murmured. “After you got stabbed, I couldn’t deal with how I felt.”

“It’s alright G, you don’t have to,” Sam told him.

Callen pulled back enough to see his partner’s face. “I need to,” he admitted. “All those nightmares?” Sam nodded at the reminder. “I kept seeing you die, over and over again. I didn’t know how to deal with that. I didn’t want to feel that way. But this mission has just proved that those feelings are real and they’re not going away.”

He stopped, shuddering, not used to this sort of emotional outpouring and Sam drew him impossible closer. “I understand,” he said, running a hand up and down Callen’s back in a soothing motion. “Thank you for telling me.”

He gently tipped Callen’s head up and looked into his eyes. “I love you G,” he repeated and leaned down to press their lips together.

Callen moaned a little and let Sam take control, giving himself over to the taste and feel of his partner’s mouth on his. The glass of vodka he still held dropped to the floor unheeded, the remaining contents spilling onto the bedroll he had laid out.

When Sam pulled back, Callen groaned and blindly reached out to him. “Sh,” Sam said and Callen blinked open heavy eyes.

“What?” he grumbled.

“I was going to suggest we go somewhere a little more comfortable,” Sam said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. “Maybe we could go back to my place?”

Callen scowled as he took in the vodka-soaked bedroll. “This is all your fault,” he complained.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “How’s that?” he asked, clearly amused.

“You distracted me,” Callen protested.

Sam just laughed at that. “The point remains, I am not sleeping on your floor tonight G.”

“Don’t have to,” Callen said. He reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand.

Sam gave him a surprised look, but followed behind as Callen dragged him from the small room he had slept in as a child and down the hall to the much larger master bedroom. Callen paused for a moment before opening the door, giving Sam an anxious look, suddenly nervous.

“G?”

Callen took a deep breath and pushed the door open, standing on the threshold as Sam looked inside.

“Wow,” Sam commented as he stepped into the room. 

It was clear the transformation of the empty room was a complete surprise, Callen just hoped it was a pleasant one. The room was now dominated by a large bed, made up with the most luxurious sheets he had been able to buy and covered with a sinfully soft comforter in a shade of blue that the sales clerk had told him matched his eyes. It had been stupid buying it for just that reason, but Callen hadn’t been able to resist. 

The rest of the room contained a few matching pieces of top quality furniture, although the drawers were mostly empty, apart from a few essentials in the nightstand.

“This is great G,” Sam told him, as he looked around appreciatively. “When did you do all this?”

Callen shrugged, self-deprecating. “I needed something to occupy me when you went after Michael to Khartoum.”

Sam smiled at him and reached out to touch the bed. “This feels great,” he commented. “Shall we christen it?”

Callen smiled back at that. “Sounds great,” he agreed and allowed Sam to drag him forward into a searing kiss. The day was certainly ending a lot better than he could have hoped it would when they’d gotten back home a few hours ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Title again from the lyrics to "Fever" by Peggy Lee


End file.
